


Time will always pass

by captainhurricane



Series: Be here now [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, implied pet death, they're in their 40s or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:43:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: Neil and Andrew in the morning, decades after pain and torture and death.





	Time will always pass

**Author's Note:**

> i figured exy players retire from active playing around the time hockey players do so they're both doing something else by now. nora's extra content didn't exactly mention what they do after they retire from playing so... I tried to keep this as close to her extra content as possible though
> 
> and yes, i reread the trilogy just now and I needed a future fic to know that yes, they are still together after years and years and years

”Look,” is all Andrew says when he tosses the newspaper to the table.

Neil doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even raise his head from where it’s been drooping for the past fifteen minutes. “What now,” he mutters but still reaches for the paper and pulls it to himself. “Oh.”

Andrew snorts. Gets himself a cup of coffee. Lets one of the cats rub itself against his leg for a moment, just out of Neil’s sight.

“Always the front cover girl,” Neil says, voice tinted with amusement. When Andrew looks back, Neil is skimming through the newspaper to find the article about Allison. All of their former teammates had ended up in several magazines over the years: especially the ones who ended up Court, but Allison is still the only one who regularly makes it all the way to newspapers, thanks to her connections and her incredible career.

Neil is smiling when he lowers the paper and glances back at his partner. “You gonna call Aaron today or what?”

Andrew takes a sip of his coffee. His fingers ache in need of a cigarette. He nods. “Maybe.” He’s well aware that his and Aaron’s relationship will never be quite as it should be, thanks to years of non-existence, thanks to their individual and shared traumas but the outright hostility is long gone by now. Aaron leaves them be and Andrew leaves him and Katelyn be.

Pretty much only calls to ask after Popo- or the dogs who came after Popo, because that poor dog suffered an unfortunate amount of health problems and had to be put down too soon. Katelyn had been stricken, Aaron less so but he had still taken Andrew and Neil’s condolences with an actual thank you.

“How does it feel?” Neil asks then, turning towards Andrew completely. Andrew watches him in silence for a moment: takes in the auburn hair Neil has taken to keeping in that dumbass hipster bun, the scratch of a beard, the old, old scars that will stay on Neil’s skin until he’s dust and feels so fiercely it burns Andrew’s heart to bits.

He wouldn’t have it any other way though.  

“How does what feel?” It’s worth it, just to see Neil roll his eyes.

“You know what, honey,” he says, sarcastic enough to cut, warm enough to make Andrew burn harder.

Andrew drinks his coffee mug empty in one go and shrugs. “Just like any other year.”

Neil smiles then: a genuine, warm smile. Andrew has learned by now to differentiate all of Neil’s grins and smiles and this one in particular has the ability to make him feel. There had been a time when that feeling had been too much but now he just snorts and goes to Neil. Neil opens his arms so Andrew steps closer, lets Neil wrap his arms loosely around Andrew’s waist, lets Neil press his face against Andrew’s stomach.

“Another year that proves how amazing you are,”  Neil murmurs. Andrew places a palm on Neil’s head, scratches him until Neil’s grip on him tightens.

“Another year that proves that I still hate you,” Andrew huffs but it’s lacked heat for years now, has become his way of saying what he still sometimes stumbles in saying. It’s okay though because Neil gets it. Neil has always seen his shadows, his scars and known what to do.

Andrew never wants to let him go.

Neil snorts. “Yes or no, Andrew?”

Andrew flicks Neil’s temple. Neil repeats the question until Andrew huffs out an exasperated yes. It’s not a touch that comes next, not a kiss but Neil looking up at him and grinning, his ridiculous eyes so bright and charming that Andrew has to look back. “You are home to me,” Neil says.

Andrew pushes his face away, but only so Neil won’t see Andrew’s lips twitching into a smile of his own. It’s gone by the time he’s made it back to his coffee mug and gently nudged away one of the cats from the coffee machine.

“Call Aaron,” Neil says.

“Yes, dear,” Andrew says, so deadpan Neil lets out an undignified snort behind him.

“And remember that there’s Ashleigh’s graduation coming up too.”

For a second Andrew stills, then his mind connects back to Allison’s child- one of the two, because apparently one screaming brat isn’t enough. Not that Andrew would admit that the Foxes’ kids are somewhat tolerable- and to the drama of the kid’s earlier years.

“How old is she again?” Andrew pours two cups of coffee this time. He remembers, of course. It’s fun to hear Neil huffing though.

“Like… twelve? Huh. Can you believe it, we didn’t have kids nor did your brother but the others did and they’re all so big already.”

Neil sounds so wistful that Andrew turns around, the cups in hand. He gives the other to Neil. “Do you want to have kids?” Neil had never said so and Andrew had always made it crystal clear he’d rather chew off his own arm but then again, there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for Neil. Much he hasn’t already done and vice versa.

“God no,” Neil snorts and takes a sip, pulling Andrew closer once more. “Just saying. Time flies. We’re both old as sin now, Wymack is even older-“

Andrew hums, strokes Neil’s hair with his free hand. Counts the freckles on Neil’s face.

“Considering there was a time when I didn’t think I’d live past nineteen, I think this is an accomplishment,” Neil says and grins once more but this time it’s one of his darker grins, an echo of a murderous father that makes Andrew’s own good mood dwindle.

“Neil,” Andrew says, placing his palm on Neil’s cheek, covering the burn mark. Neil takes his cup from him, lets him tilt Neil’s face up.

“It’s okay,” Neil whispers but Andrew knows it’s not, it never will be completely okay and that’s okay. Neil will never be in the dark alone again. Andrew will never be in the dark alone again. Andrew doesn’t say a word, instead leans down to kiss him: one of those soft, patient ones that he has all the time in the world now to give to every inch of Neil’s skin. Neil smiles against his lips, his fingertips tickling Andrew’s sides. They kiss for a good long while, their lips and tongue familiar with each other from two decades of this: long enough that when they pull back, Neil takes one look at his clock and swears.

Andrew rolls his eyes and takes a step back.

“I’ll call Aaron,” he says.

“Tell him and Katelyn I miss them,” Neil says, only partly a lie. Missing a person to Neil means something else than it means to someone else, but it still means Neil cares, still thinks of the former Foxes as the family he should have always had.

Andrew nods, pulls Neil back for another, brief kiss and waves him away to his work.  

Calling Aaron. Right. Andrew flicks a look at the clock on the wall and knows that Aaron should be on his break by now- not that world-renowned surgeons get that many breaks- and should know to expect a call. Somehow they had made this into a deal after their departure from the PSU and after they had stopped their joined sessions: Andrew calls on their birthday. Aaron calls only when it’s an emergency. They don’t really even text: Andrew had quite never gotten into that habit and Aaron is too busy to bother with it anyway.

It’s mostly the animals they talk about: Aaron and Katelyn’s pug (well, pugs ever since Popo died) and Andrew and Neil’s cats. Andrew doesn’t want to talk about Neil with anyone that much and he’s not interested in hearing about Katelyn, no matter how much he knows by now that she’s not Tilda, she’s good for Aaron. And Aaron is not interested in hearing about Neil, except to know that he’s still alive and kicking and good for Andrew.

 _“Morning,”_ Aaron’s voice sounds slightly out of breath.

“Mmhm,” says Andrew. “How’s the morning?”

 _“Busy,”_ says Aaron. _“How’s the not-husband?”_

“He’s fine,” Andrew huffs. “How’s the wife?”

 _“Fine,”_ Aaron huffs back. _“Also busy. Happy birthday, Andrew.”_

“Happy birthday, Aaron,” Andrew murmurs. Drags a hand through his hair and wishes for a cigarette. “How you’re gonna spend it?”

 _“At work,”_ Aaron hums. _“Gonna take Katelyn out tomorrow though. Your end though, I’m pretty sure Neil has got something planned.”_

“What?”

 _“He asked for my advice,”_ Aaron says. Andrew huffs, goes to their terrace and digs out his pack of cigs. He’s cut back a bit over the years but he still craves the nicotine from time to time.

“He knows I hate surprises,” Andrew hums.

 _“Not my problem,”_ Aaron says _. “Anyways, I have to go back to work. And Andrew-“_ Aaron sighs, so deep that Andrew stills in the process of flicking open his lighter.

“Yes?”

 _“I’m glad you called,”_ Aaron says, his voice unreadable. He says it every time. _I’m glad you called._ Andrew still wonders if it’s the entire truth.

“Of course,” he says, quiet because his own voice seems to be stuck in his throat.

_“Bye then.”_

“Bye.”

Andrew is the first to hang up. He stares at his phone screen for a moment before stuffing it into his pocket and lighting his cigarette. An irritated meow rings out from behind him and then a furry fuzzball shoots from between his legs to the backyard.

“Stupid cat,” Andrew says. The cat- King II, in short- races around the yard for a moment before stopping on its tracks in front of Andrew. Its eyes are yellow in the morning sun.

“He’s glad I called,” Andrew says to it. The cat meows. “Every time. I’m beginning to believe him.” The cat begins to wash its paw. Andrew stuffs his half-burnt cigarette and leaves it to the terrace ashtray for later before returning inside.


End file.
